Across the Stars, Book II: Destiny's Call
by Aleine Skyfire
Summary: RotS AU. The Skywalkers and Kenobis have hid their family relations for several years - now, the advent of new life threatens that secret. But contrary to Jedi beliefs, Anakin's family might save him in the end... Sequel to "When You Believe"
1. Prologue: Conspiracy of Heroes

**Author's Note:**

Here it is—the sequel to _Across the Stars, Book I: When You Believe_! If you haven't read the first fic, please don't let that stop you from reading this one! I hope to bring everybody up to speed quickly.

**

* * *

==Across the Stars==**

**Destiny's Call**

_

* * *

War! The Republic is crumbling under attacks by the ruthless Sith Lord, Count Dooku. There are heroes on both sides. Evil is everywhere._

_In a stunning move, the fiendish droid leader, General Grievous, has swept into the Republic capital and kidnapped Chancellor Palpatine, leader of the Galactic Senate._

_As the Separatist Droid Army attempts to flee the besieged capital with their valuable hostage, two Jedi Knights lead a desperate mission to rescue the captive Chancellor. . ._

**

* * *

==Prologue==**

**Conspiracy of Heroes**

* * *

_The Chosen_

_

* * *

_

He was the originator of the conspiracy. He was the first to speak from his heart.

He became a war hero, a poster boy for the Republic. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that his superiors saw shone brighter now than ever.

If only they knew the reason for that light.

As the bloodbath dragged on, he came home as often as he possibly could, even if only for a few hours. A stolen moment here and there became an anchor for him, a reason for fighting, a reason for living. He came home as often as he could.

He wasn't there to hear his daughter's first word.

He was told it was "Da-da."

* * *

_The Senator_

_

* * *

_

She accepted the conspiracy. She had opposed it at first, but a brush with Death convinced her otherwise.

She became a powerful voice in her arena, where battles were won with words rather than blaster bolts. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that her colleagues saw shone brighter now than ever.

They knew the reason for that light, if only they would stop to think about it.

As the bloodbath dragged on, she came out to the frontline as often as she possibly could, weighed down though she was with politics and motherhood. A stolen moment here and there became an anchor for her, as _he_ became her strength. She came out as often as she could.

She wasn't home to hear her daughter's first laugh.

She was told it sounded like music.

* * *

_The Child_

_

* * *

_

She was born into the conspiracy. She didn't have much of a choice in that regard.

She grew from infancy into toddler-hood, coming into her own with an innate grasp of something that her young mind could not describe with her limited vocabulary. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that others like her sensed but did not fully understand.

If only they knew the reason for the _power_ of that light.

As the bloodbath dragged on, she grew more aware of the war, watching the news and sensing the deaths. Stolen moments here and there with _Daddy_ became an anchor for her, as she aspired to be just like him. With the help of her guardian, she commed him as often as she could.

Mama and Daddy weren't home much.

They were her heroes, nevertheless.

_

* * *

The Guardian_

* * *

She leapt into the conspiracy. Her best friend needed her, and she wouldn't let her down.

She became the guardian of her friend's daughter, and managed to remain a powerful voice of truth by the written word. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that many tried to dim by criticism.

They understood that that light would burn away the growing darkness.

As the bloodbath dragged on, she remained at home, raising a precocious child whose parents worked tirelessly to protect the Republic. She had no man's shoulder to cry upon, no man's arms to hold her, no man's voice to uplift her. She found solace in her Creator, instead, whenever she needed it.

There were precious, once-in-a-lifetime moments that made up for the lack of her own family.

She saw the baby take her first steps.

_

* * *

The Negotiator_

* * *

He stumbled upon the conspiracy. He was driven by a love for the boy who was both son and brother.

He became a war hero, a poster boy for the Republic. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that his peers saw shone brighter now than ever.

As the bloodbath dragged on, he reunited with his own love as often as he possibly could, even if only for a few hours. A stolen moment here and there became an anchor for him, a reason to hold on to his sanity in the midst of an increasingly insane galaxy. He met with her as often as he could.

It wasn't often, at all.

Oddly, he found that he could live with it.

_

* * *

The Finder_

* * *

She was the first to be inducted into the conspiracy. She was driven by compassion for an orphan and his wife.

She became an intelligence operative, an unsung hero. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that she often dimmed lest it be her undoing.

As the bloodbath dragged on, she reunited with her love as often as she possibly could, even if only for a few hours. A stolen moment here and there became an anchor for him, a reason to hold on to her innocence in the midst of so much evil. She met with him as often as she could.

She miscarried their first child.

He never found out that he had been a father for one month.

_

* * *

The Captain_

* * *

He stumbled upon the conspiracy about two years after its conception. He entered into it through loyalty to his commanding officer and compassion for that officer's child.

He became a war hero, the best of the best. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that few people realized was actually there.

As the bloodbath dragged on, he found himself increasingly protective of another commanding officer. Brief but countless moments of camaraderie became an anchor for him, a reason to hold on to his humanity and individuality. That camaraderie slowly grew stronger.

It was as unprofessional as anything could possibly be.

Oddly, that didn't stop him.

_

* * *

The Learner_

* * *

She figured out the conspiracy nearly two years after its conception. She entered into it through a pure, child's love for her mentor and his family.

She became a war hero, a poster child alongside her mentor. A beacon of light in a shrouded galaxy, a beacon that burned bright and fierce.

As the bloodbath dragged on, she found herself increasingly dependent upon an officer under her command. Brief but countless moments of camaraderie became an anchor for her, a reason to push herself to do better and better. That camaraderie slowly grew stronger.

It was against the rules, just like the conspiracy.

She believed that love overcame the toughest obstacles.

**

* * *

Author's Note:**

Cookies to anyone who recognized all of the characters depicted here. If you have trouble identifying all of them, go back to the epilogue for _When You Believe_. That should help.

I loved doing the repetition here. I've never written anything quite like this before.

The first chapter should be done in about a week, possibly sooner. As I watch the movie, I keep stopping it and going back to play the past few seconds so that I can accurately describe all the little nuances of the characters.

**To my reviewers (on the WYB epilogue):**

Pearlmaidenredskyla: Awww! Now I've gotta give you another hug! *does just that* As you could probably figure out from this prologue, yeees, Ahsoka's _definitely_ a star player here! I love that girl. =)

Historian 1912: Who said what in the "trailer" was left out intentionally so that there would be less spoilers. If I were to have said, that would be giving away more of the story than I want to, and I want certain plot twists to be a surprise when you read them. (Yay, you're hooked!)

"To Be Continued," well… it's true. *shrugs* The _first installation_ of the story is complete, but the _story_ _itself_ isn't. Besides, it's like the end of the first two _Lord of the Rings_ films, when they say "To Be Continued." So I'm in good company. =D

Jedi Angel001: Thank you very much! Hope this fic delivers!

_**Please review!**_


	2. Chapter 1: The Alternative

**Characters in the Prologue:**

_The Chosen_: Anakin Skywalker

_The Senator_: Padmé Skywalker

_The Child_: Lúthien Skywalker

_The Guardian_: Sabé Janea

_The Negotiator_: Obi-Wan Kenobi

_The Finder_: Siri Kenobi

_The Captain_: Captain Rex of the 501st

_The Learner_: Ahsoka Tano

Cookies to everybody who got all eight, and even to those that got six or seven!

**Important Note!**

I've received questions about whether or not Obi-Wan and Siri's marriage was allowed by the Jedi Council in the epilogue of the first fic. So, I'll say right now: _it's as secret as the Skywalkers'_. Yes, Obi-Wan and Siri went behind the Council's back, which _will_ have repercussions. But had they asked Yoda for permission, they would have gotten the same answer they did back after the first Talesan Fry mission, and they knew that.

**To my reviewers (also answering more reviews to WYB's epilogue):**

Obi's Mom: Thank you so much for the reviews and the fave! Oh, I've seen some of your Siriwan stuff before—it's cute! Yeah, I was hoping the epilogue would really deliver to Siriwan fans—definitely one of my favorite moments in the fic, and one of the most fun to write. And, well, as I said about, they didn't ask the Council. =S They knew what answer they'd get. And I'm so glad you enjoyed the Christian overtones! (It's so neat to see how many people have enjoyed that!)

So… the list above should answer your question about "The Captain," unless you don't know _The Clone Wars_. Captain Rex is Anakin's right-hand trooper. Nope, Obi-Wan didn't know… and with a war going on, I would imagine that chances are higher for an active Jedi mother to miscarry. As for another chance… well, I'll say this much. You recall that dream that Obi-Wan had in the last fic? The one with the little girl? ;-) Siriwan isn't so much the focus in _this_ installment, but it should still deliver pretty well. ^^

Pearlmaidenredskyla: (Y'know, when I first wrote a reply to you, I had to copy your name. Now, I have it memorized, and it's longer than Grand Admiral Thrawn's full name! xD) YES, THE CAPTAIN, as in REX. Lol. No, you didn't mention it before. I know now. xDDDD Rex is first-rate, no doubts there. Hate to have to break it to you that he doesn't actually get that much screen-time in _this_ fic, but I think he'll have a more significant role in the third installment. ^^

* * *

**==Chapter I==**

**The Alternative**

_I would much rather say that every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before._

—C.S. Lewis, _Mere Christianity_

Colors flashed and spiraled and flickered and crisscrossed and burst, lighting up the early morning sky over Coruscant's capital district. Those colors formed a spectacular work of art.

But that work of art meant the death of countless beings.

Padmé Amidala Skywalker watched the lethal performance from the safety of her balcony in the 500 Republica. Behind her, inside the apartment, she could hear the voice of the newscaster reporting on the battle, with clips of live footage.

It was cold out here. She pulled her robe tighter around her, eyes instinctively searching the lightening sky for a glimpse of a well-known starfighter. It was futile, of course—even with macrobinocs, she probably wouldn't be able to see the battle clearly enough.

She felt a roll in her womb and pressed a hand to her swollen belly. She had the vague thought that five months of pregnancy with Lúthien hadn't made her this large—the baby must be big. She wondered if, even from within the womb, her new child could sense the deaths, just like Lúthien could.

A moment later, Padmé felt a tug on her robe and looked down. "_N'a-kee-tula_," she breathed, "what are you doing out here? It's cold."

Three-year-old Lúthien Skywalker looked up at her mother, her big blue eyes mournful. "I wanna be wit' you."

Padmé's expression turned sympathetic. "You can feel it, can't you?"

Lúthien nodded wordlessly.

"Oh, honey." Padmé bent down and scooped up her daughter, holding her to the side. "Let's go inside," she decided. "It's cold out here, hmm?"

"O-kay." Lúthien laid her head on her mother's shoulder and stared up at the sky. Padmé let her look a few moments longer, and felt the toddler's hand drift down to rest on her belly. The little girl relaxed almost immediately.

"Come on," Padmé murmured, slowly returning indoors.

* * *

A beam of blue plasma seared through fabric, flesh, and bone…

And then it was over.

Count Dooku sank to his knees, the black stumps where _his hands had been_ just moments before now burning with pain. He let out a quiet hiss, his only audible concession to the maiming.

His own blade crossed with Skywalker's, mere inches from his neck.

"Good, Anakin—good!" he heard Darth Sidious laugh. "Why don't you kill him?"

Dooku stared at his master, stunned. Kill… kill _him_? He looked up at Skywalker, at the storm roiling just beneath the surface of his blue, blue eyes.

And then he knew.

He _knew_.

"I shouldn't," the boy ground out, visibly trembling with the force of the storm within.

"Skywalker!" Dooku said, before Sidious could repeat his veiled command. "Jedi Skywalker, don't…"

The boy's face turned incredulous. "Don't _what_?" he spat. "_You_ told me to use my fear and anger, and now that I have you on your knees, you're backpedaling!"

"Yes," Dooku said, with more boldness than he felt.

"Anakin, don't listen to him!" Sidious warned. "Kill—"

"Because I _understand_ now," Dooku continued desperately, some long-buried part of him trying to reach the purer part of the boy. The part that would not kill a disarmed man.

"Understand—" Skywalker began, but Dooku cut him off, too.

"That's what being this close to death does to you," he said, almost wryly. Almost. "If you—"

"Anakin, he's filling your head with—"

"—kill me now, out of hatred, you'll open yourself to a lifetime of darkness," Dooku continued, his more powerful voice overriding his master's. _Former_ master's. "And when you come to the end of it, you will be broken and alone."

The boy's expression did not change, but his sense in the Force _did_—minutely, but a shift, nonetheless. He was _listening_. Dooku was _getting through_.

"Anakin—"

"_Look_ at me, Anakin Skywalker!" Dooku urged, not in the voice of a broken enemy but in the voice of a Jedi Master. A Jedi Master desperate to keep a young Knight from falling. "Do you see where I _am_? Do you know how I _got_ here? _Do you want to end up __**here**__ someday_?"

Something flashed through the stormy blue eyes—Dooku wasn't certain what. Memory, perhaps. But as soon as he saw it, he knew once more.

And this time, he knew that he'd won.

"Anakin," he said gently, and saw the boy flinch at the use of his given name, "I'll come with you. I'll surrender. I'll give you whatever data you require—I'll help you end this war. Please."

He didn't dare look at Sidious, but he could feel the Sith Master's ice-blue eyes burning twin holes of hatred straight into his skull and out through the other side. Sidious didn't dare urge so strongly now—at best, he'd look petty, and at worst, he could possibly damage the boy's trust in him.

And that was something Sidious would not—dared not—risk.

The boy took one last glance at the Chancellor, as if begging him to understand. Dooku wasn't certain that he himself understood.

Anakin Skywalker stepped back and deactivated both sabers.

Dooku released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, sensing a crucial _shift_ in the Force. Myriads of possibilities opened up before him, threads of destinies skewed and tangled but leading to one inexorable point of light.

Anakin Skywalker _should_ have killed him. He should have killed him, and he did not, though he had had the perfect opportunity.

Minutes before, Dooku had believed the so-called "Chosen One" to be half-Sith already. But even a being only half-Sith would have taken that opportunity.

The boy was a _Jedi_ now.

Perhaps there was something to that "Chosen One" business, after all.

* * *

He felt cold and damp, and he trembled at the sensation. Cold was a feeling that he still had not quite gotten used to, even after living fourteen years off his desert homeworld.

Anakin Skywalker backed away from the Chancellor and the Count, eyes flicking back and forth between the two. He saw… _something_… there, and he wished he knew what it was.

He clipped both his and Dooku's lightsabers to his belt and hurried over to Obi-Wan's side. He didn't bother to open Palpatine's binders—not yet. With the Chancellor's almost disturbing insistence to kill Dooku, Anakin worried that a freed Palpatine might try to kill the Sith Lord himself.

In which case, Dooku just might be able to still pull a skifter out of his sleeve.

Keeping his eyes on the incapacitated pair, he lifted the fallen platform off of his former Master's legs and knelt by his side.

"Anakin, leave him!" Palpatine urged, and Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. "There's no time!" He saw Dooku give the Chancellor a measured look that Anakin couldn't decipher.

Leave Obi-Wan? The Negotiator, the decorated general, the Jedi Master? The man who was both father and brother to him? Leave _that_ Obi-Wan?

Right. Maybe in a million years, if he ever got that old.

Obi-Wan was _alive_. Therefore, he was going to make it _out_ alive.

That simple.

Anakin stared hard at the man who was like a grandfather to him, durasteel in his voice. "His fate will be the same as ours."

Something flashed in Dooku's dark eyes. Triumph? No… No, more like… _vindication_. How odd.

With the ease of one who'd performed this duty more times than he wanted to recall, Anakin lifted Obi-Wan onto his back and called Obi-Wan's lightsaber to his belt. "Hold in there, Master," he whispered, trotting back over to Palpatine and Dooku. The latter was standing once more, despite the pain still radiating off of him.

"Don't like it when it happens to you, do you?" Anakin muttered, opening Palpatine's binders with a flicker of the Force. He knew that Dooku heard him, but the old man apparently chose not to respond. Palpatine stood, and Anakin turned fully to Dooku.

"All right, Count, we're going to get to a hangar, and we're going to get out of here before this whole place goes to chaos," Anakin announced. "I don't care if you don't have hands anymore—if you can't keep up, I won't be coming back for you. Got it?"

"Understood," Dooku said gravely. "Don't worry, Jedi Skywalker—I want to escape this ship as much as you do."

"Somehow, I think you do," Anakin muttered wryly, jogging for the stairs.

Halfway up the steps, his burden stirred. "Ana—_Anakin_?"

Hmm, apparently, not only had Obi-Wan woken up, but he'd already noticed their tagalong. "Yes, Master?"

"What in _blazes_—"

"Master?"

"Yes?"

"Can I let you down now? You're kind of heavy."

Obi-Wan shifted his weight backwards, and for a moment, Anakin almost lost his footing on the steps. But Obi-Wan landed safely on his feet, and Anakin steadied himself. When he looked up, he was looking directly into his former Master's grey-blue eyes.

"Well, doesn't this look familiar," Obi-Wan murmured dryly, snatching his lightsaber from Anakin's belt, turning, and heading up the stairs. _Guess that concussion wasn't enough to hold him down. Wait a second—familiar…_

Then it hit him. Hando Anaka, and being prisoners alongside Dooku. Oh great, Obi-Wan just _had_ to bring up _that_ memory, didn't he? Anakin scowled and followed, hearing the older men's footsteps behind him.

* * *

The turbolift shaft hadn't been fun. At one side of the shaft, Palpatine had been dangling from Anakin's leg, and at the other side, Dooku had been dangling _upside-down_ from Obi-Wan's grip.

But as awkward as that had been, it was nothing compared to the humiliation of being caught in…

"Ray shields." That was Dooku's voice, and he sounded as disgusted with himself as Obi-Wan felt.

"Wait a minute!" Obi-Wan protested. "How did this happen? We're smarter than this!"

"Apparently not," Anakin countered, planting his fists on his hips and casting an evaluating look at the light shimmering around them.

Dooku looked as if he had something witty—and probably unhelpful—to say, but let it slide. Good idea. The man was in deep enough already, and seeing as how he had already lost both hands to Anakin, he didn't need to provoke the boy any further.

"I say, patience," Anakin added, looking Obi-Wan in the eye.

"Patience," Obi-Wan echoed, folding his arms and nodding. His former Padawan… and patience. Water and oil had a better chance of mixing than _Anakin Impetuosity Skywalker_ and _patience_.

"Yes," Anakin nodded back, sounding a bit more certain than he felt. "Artoo will be along in a few moments, and then… he'll release the ray shields."

"How delightful," Dooku remarked, to no one in particular. "I've always wanted to be rescued by a droid."

At that moment, they heard an electronic wail, and R2-D2 came careening out of one hall and _smack_ into the doorjamb on the opposite side. He rebounded, regained his balance, and literally shook himself. Obi-Wan blinked—that little astromech really did have all the personality of a sentient being.

Behind him, Dooku and Palpatine turned to face the droid as Anakin said, "See? No problem."

"Anakin, there are _always_ prob—"

The words hadn't even finished leaving Obi-Wan's mouth before droidekas rolled in from the same hall R2 had come. On the other side, super battle droids appeared, one of them telling R2 not to move. The little astromech shot a line of electricity at the larger droid, which gave a mechanical cry and kicked R2 over onto his back.

"No problem?" Dooku echoed, dark amusement evident in his voice.

Anakin glared at him over his shoulder, and Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't suppose you have a Plan B."

Anakin's eyebrows shot skyward. "_I'm_ suddenly the leader here? I thought that was _your_ job."

Obi-Wan blinked again. "Only just _now_ are you _finally_ acknowledging this?"

Dooku cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, if I may…"

"Well, I guess you're home free, huh, Dooku?" Anakin said bitterly.

Dooku lifted his chin and looked Anakin in the eye. "I told you that I would return to Coruscant with you and help you end this war. I will not go back on my word."

Obi-Wan arched a sardonic eyebrow, taking in the thundercloud expression on the Chancellor's face. "And I take it _you_ have a plan?"

"As a matter of fact…"

* * *

"_Padmé? Sabé? Anybody home?"_ Ahsoka's voice called from the comm division of the holo station.

Sabé leaned forward and hit the _accept_ button. "Ahsoka?"

A quarter-sized image of the seventeen-year-old sprang to life on the console, in front of the HoloNet news bulletin. _"Sabé, hey,"_ Ahsoka said breathlessly. _"Are you watching the news?"_

"I'd imagine everybody in the galaxy who's not fighting right now _is_," Sabé said wryly.

Padmé entered the living room just then, Lúthien in tow. "Ahsoka!"

Ahsoka tilted her head at the new voice. _"Padmé! …And Lúthien! Hi!"_

"Hi, Aun' 'Soka," Lúthien said solemnly as she and her mother sat on the couch near the holo station.

"Ahsoka, what's going on?" Padmé asked.

"_I was wondering if you'd heard from Anakin and Obi-Wan,"_ the Togruta Padawan replied. _"Rex keeps trying to get through to them, but they haven't responded since they headed for the _Invisible Hand_."_

Padmé shook her head. "We haven't heard a thing from them since they came in-system. The newscasters still don't know where they are."

"_Oh, c'mon, Padmé—cheer up!"_ Ahsoka encouraged. _"They're big boys—they'll be just fine. They'll whip those dirty Seps and—"_

"Language!" Padmé and Sabé said together.

"_Oops,"_ the girl said sheepishly. _"Sorry."_

Padmé sighed, rubbing her abdomen. "What about your end?"

"_The _Resolute_'s about to make the jump to hyperspace back to Coruscant,"_ Ahsoka reported. _"I should be seeing you later today."_

"All right, Ahsoka." Padmé managed a small smile at her husband's apprentice. "Take care."

"_You, too."_ The image winked out.

Lúthien turned to her mother, then, gazing up with large cerulean eyes, so much like her father's. "Don' worry, Mama," she said firmly. "Daddy an' Uncle Ben are gonna be okay."

* * *

"Ah, yes, the _Negotiator_," the dual-toned voice hissed. "General Kenobi—we've been waiting for you."

"'Scuse me," a battle droid commander said, brushing past Obi-Wan and bearing their lightsabers.

"That wasn't much of a rescue," General Grievous continued, snatching the sabers from the commander. Including Dooku's, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You're welcome," the droid almost _huffed_. Now, R2 was one thing, but how _battle droids_ acquired this much personality, Anakin would never understand.

Count Dooku stepped forward, and Anakin could only hope that the Sith Lord was completely sincere about his surrender. It certainly _felt_ like it, but Anakin couldn't be blamed for being wary of the man who'd been the sworn enemy of the Republic for the past four years.

"General—" Dooku began, but was cut off by Grievous.

"And –_cough-cough_– Anakin Skywalker," the cyborg continued to gloat. Anakin frowned slightly—maybe he was too caught up in his prizes to notice his boss's rather… maimed state? The cross-wired freak stalked up to Anakin and leaned into his face, reptilian yellow eyes against human blue ones. "I was expecting someone with your reputation to be a little… _older_."

Anakin smirked, knowing that, if things went well, that would be the most revenge Grievous would ever get on him for the destruction of the _Malevolence_ roughly three years ago. He sized the cyborg up and said, "General Grievous. You're _shorter_ than I expected." He lifted his chin, trying hard to bite back his smirk and not quite making it.

Too bad Ahsoka wasn't here—she was great at taunting.

"Jedi scum!" the general snarled, turning away.

"We have a job to do, Anakin—_try_ not to upset him," Obi-Wan said wryly, his grey-blue eyes dancing.

Nearby, R2 tootled that he was ready.

"Your mission has _failed_, Master Kenobi," Dooku said curtly.

Only then did Grievous finally bother to acknowledge the presence of his superior, and when he did, even his cyberized mind radiated a sense of shock. "Count Dooku! Did the Jedi do this to you?"

Anakin felt a mental wince from Obi-Wan at the lengths Anakin had gone to _disarm_ Dooku. But for crying out loud, how _else_ could he have _successfully_ defeated a man who could shoot _lightning_?

At least Obi-Wan didn't yet know how close Anakin had come to decapitating the Sith Lord. That… would probably not go over well.

"Yes," Dooku said coldly. "Once I receive prosthetic replacements, I shall dispose of them myself."

"That won't be necessary," Obi-Wan assured him, his face alight with relish. "This time, you won't escape."

"Artoo!" Anakin called.

The little droid promptly went berserk, extensions popping out wildly, shooting sparks, flame retardant, and lines of electricity. He released an electronic shriek as Obi-Wan whirled around, his lightsaber flying out of Grievous's grip and smacking against his palm. He tilted the ignited blade up to cut his binders, then pulled it forward to perform the same service for Anakin.

"Crush them!" Grievous ordered his Magna Guards even as the ship's alarms began to blare.

Anakin's own lightsaber now zooming towards him, he plucked it out of the air and activated it.

"Make them suffer!" Grievous added, backing away as the Magna Guards stepped forward to deal with the Jedi.

The next minute was a blur of blue lightsabers, droid parts, and violet energy from electrostaffs. As the two Jedi cornered Grievous, the cyborg hurled an electrostaff into a side panel of the viewport, shattering the transparisteel and blowing it out into space.

The bridge was now open to the deadly void.

As Anakin grabbed hold of a control station, he dimly saw Grievous be sucked out with the ship's atmosphere. Obi-Wan hung from the neighboring station, Palpatine gripped a chair and gasped for oxygen that wasn't there, and Dooku managed to tuck himself under a console facing away from the missing viewport panel. A blast shield swiftly cascaded out to cover the panel, shutting off the gap. Oxygen rushed back into the bridge to re-pressurize the room, and within moments, every last droid remaining in the bridge lay on the floor in pieces.

The klaxons still wailed. Anakin checked a console and banged his fist against it in frustration. "All the escape pods have been hatched," he told Obi-Wan.

"Grievous," his former Master concluded.

"Well, Count, care to let us in on any more grand plans?" Anakin asked sarcastically.

"It's not _my_ fault that you let Grievous _escape_, young one," Dooku returned, a hint of frustration in his tone as he pushed himself out of his protective barrier.

"Do you know how to fly a cruiser like this?" Obi-Wan asked before Anakin could retort with something nasty. The two of them took seats at the piloting station.

"You mean, do I know how to land what's left of this thing?" Anakin corrected.

"Well?"

"Well, under the circumstances, I'd say the ability to fly this thing is really irrelevant," Anakin replied, already familiarizing himself with the system. There wasn't a ship in the galaxy he couldn't fly if he only had a few moments to study the pilot console—Grievous's old flagship had been no exception, and neither would his new flagship be. "Strap yourselves in."

They were going in, and they were going in _hot_.

"Open all hatches," Anakin told Obi-Wan, not looking up. "Extend all flaps and drag fins." He felt rather than saw his former Master comply.

The ship shook mightily as it neared the planetary atmosphere, atmospheric entry being something for which it had never been designed. Unlike _Venators_ and _Acclamators_, this Separatist ship had been not been designed to _land_.

This was going to be fun.

He felt himself become one with the ship, just before it _lurched_. He _felt_ the aft half of the ship break off. The thrusters were _completely gone_. He had just lost all directional control.

Anakin turned in his seat to glance back reflexively, returned his attention to his station. "We lost something." Understatement of the era, but if the other three men didn't realize what had just happened, he wasn't about to spell it out for them. He was under enough pressure as it was.

"Not to worry," Obi-Wan said, almost lightly, "we are still flying _half_ a ship."

Not to worry. Riiight. Easy for _him_ to say—he wasn't trying to crash-land this kriffing thing. What kind of idiot designed a capital ship that couldn't land?

He closed his eyes momentarily and whispered a prayer, then snapped his eyes open. The panic and frustration flickered and vanished altogether, peace flowing in to replace them. He _could_ land this ship. He _could_.

Even though flames licked the hull and the viewport and his vision burned orange, he _knew_ he could crash-land this gargantuan hunk of metal. He _knew_ they would _all_ get out _alive_.

The Force flowed in and around Anakin Skywalker as never before, singing in triumph even as more pieces continued to rip off from the main bulk, falling through Coruscant's atmosphere like meteors. The _Invisible Hand_ seared through the sky, and it was redundant to say that they were coming in too hot, but Anakin said it, anyway. If he remained silent, his heart just might pound its way right out of his chest. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, made his clothes cling to him. His heart was a strange mixture of peace and euphoria, a-thrill with the lethal challenge of landing.

He heard Obi-Wan's voice report periodically—the voice of his former Master, his partner, his father figure, his brother. He wouldn't want to be pulling this insane stunt with _anyone_ else in the galaxy.

When they hit a landing strip and roared to a halt at last, Anakin almost blacked out from sheer joy. He fell back against his seat, grinning like an idiot, then laughed weakly.

Obi-Wan joined him. "Another happy landing," he grinned.

Anakin just laughed harder.

_99 Duesenflieger (99 jet planes)_

_Jeder war ein grosser Krieger (Each one was a great warrior)_

_Hielten sich fuer (Thought that they were Captain Kirk)_

_Es gab ein grosses Feuerwerk (There were great fireworks)_

—"99 Luftballons," Nena

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I… never really liked it that Count Dooku died. I know that he _had_ to, for things to turn out as they did, but even so… I'm not quite sure how I decided that he would live. Only that, once I did, it made sense. His survival of the _Invisible Hand_ is going to be important in ways you probably wouldn't dream of. *shivers in ecstasy*

I'll explain Anakin's choice more in-depth next chapter. It certainly helped, though, that Dooku _fought_ for his life, rather than remaining silent.

I know that I really cut down the battle scenes and the crash, but I have two good reasons. One, it would have taken me much, _much_ longer to go into greater detail, because I would have had to play and replay those scenes over and over to catch all the details. Two, I don't particularly care for blow-by-blow novelizations of scenes from the movies in AUs—when I come across such scenes in an AU fic, I tend to skip ahead to where the story once again deviates from the film. If you want to relive those scenes, you can go read the book or watch the movie—they're better than any meager attempt on my part. ;D

Writing Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Dooku in this chapter was fun. I do believe… this is actually the _first_ time I've ever dug into Dooku's mind. Heh, nearly four years of Star Wars writing, and I'm doing this only just now. But just because he's surrendered doesn't mean that he's _exactly_ a "good guy"—he's getting a better perspective, but he has his own road to redemption.

Those scenes with Padmé & Co. weren't exactly _necessary_, but consider them neat extras. They get you better acquainted with the characters _before_ Anakin reunites with Padmé in the Senate.

Sorry, but don't count on the second chapter to be up very soon—I've got _Legacy of Thrawn_ to update. Once I've got a chapter up there, I'll return here. Promise!

_**Please review!**_


	3. Chapter 2: Reunions

**Author's Note:**

Well, here we are at last! A new chapter! (And on a big day for my family, no less! W00t!) Thank you to everyone who's favorited this, thus far!

So, here's what's happened in the interval between this chapter and the last: I finally have a beta reader, **Lady Ravena**! Lady R. is a Thrawn lover, but she's willing to edit all my SW stuff, so _yay_!

AND my connection went down. AGAIN. OUR BRAND-NEW ANTENNAE QUIT ON US. The thing wasn't even two months old yet! Now we have another that will _hopefully_ NOT QUIT ON US.

**To my reviewers:**

XxRandom NemesisxX: Thank you very much! =)

Pearlmaidenredskyla: Heh, thanks! *grins* Well, hey, there's definitely romance here (in this very chapter, no less), but yeah, I know what you mean. And there will certainly be action, as well! (Hopefully, I can pull those scenes off; because it's been over two years since the last time I tried anything of this caliber.)

And don't worry—Rex will pop up, next chapter! He wouldn't have been included in the prologue if he wasn't still going to have a supporting role… I might as well say it: there'll be some interaction between him and the little Skywalker girl. Very cute, that. ^^

And you _will_ also see some Padmé/Ahsoka time. Not sure _how_ _much_ just yet, but it will be there, I can promise you that. In an AU in which Ahsoka _knows_, I see the two of them as being sisters-in-law, you know? I do think they would get along quite smashingly! xD

Jedi Angel001: Thank you! Yes, Anakin's decision to let Dooku live is definitely pivotal—that, and it's just plain fun to be able to play with Dooku longer in the story. ^^

Obi's Mom: Thanks! *tilts head* Mm, I _can_ see how you wouldn't like the idea of the Kenobis marriage being under-the-table, and I'm sorry that you don't like it… *shrugs helplessly* It's just the way things worked out, you know? The Council wouldn't have let them do it. …Anyway… welp, you're going to _love_ the last scene in this chapter, I can guarantee that! =D Hope this story continues to hold your interest!

**

* * *

==Chapter II==**

**Reunions**

_With a sigh, you turn away  
With a deepening heart  
No more words to say  
You will find that the world has changed forever_

—"Arwen's Song," Liv Tyler, _The Return of the King_

Standing near the hatch, Obi-Wan watched the Supreme Chancellor—erect and dignified as if he hadn't just survived such a harrowing life-and-death experience—disembark from the shuttle and meet with the Senators assembled just outside the Senate Building. Flicking a glance back at the Count, Obi-Wan moved away from the hatch to allow Anakin to exit. Standing just off the ramp, Anakin looked back up.

"Are you coming, Master?"

"Oh, no. I'm not brave enough for politics. Besides—" Obi-Wan cast a significant look towards Dooku—"someone needs to explain this to the Council."

Anakin grimaced, and took a step back toward the shuttle. "Should I come with you?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I can handle it—you go ahead. Besides, I think you have some admirers awaiting you." He winked knowingly.

Anakin's tired face broke out into a grin, his eyes suddenly soft. "Wouldn't want to keep 'em waiting."

"Precisely. Now shoo." Obi-Wan gestured appropriately.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I'm going, I'm going. Dinner tonight?"

Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "I'll be there."

"All right—see you then."

Obi-Wan's smile turned pensive as Anakin strode off to meet the small crowd. "Your old Padawan has grown," Dooku's voice said from behind.

Obi-Wan turned. "He has." He moved to the back of the shuttle and took a seat opposite from the injured Dooku. "Count, I would like to know what happened in those few minutes I was unconscious aboard the ship."

Dooku arched an aristocratic eyebrow. "I believe that is what you were discussing with young Skywalker on our way here."

Obi-Wan regarded the older man steadily. "Yes, I did. And now I want to discuss it with _you_. What happened up there?"

Uncharacteristic vulnerability flashed briefly across the Sith Lord's face. "I'm not certain I understand it all myself."

The Jedi Master's face tightened, ever so slightly. "Please don't stall, Count. Now, what happened?"

* * *

As the small crowd headed into the building—Palpatine and Mace Windu in the lead—Anakin fell into step with Padmé's longtime friend, Bail Organa. "The Republic cannot praise you enough," the Senator said by way of greeting.

"Thank you, Senator Organa," Anakin returned courteously. Though outwardly calm, his mind stretched out and brushed against his daughter's, nearby. Lúthien's excitement spilled into the Force like water from a fountain, and Anakin worked to maintain his composure as he felt it.

Vaguely, he heard Bail and See-Threepio behind him, speaking at the same time. "Count Dooku's arrest," Bail was saying, "will surely bring an end to this war—"

"Well, it couldn't possibly be as bad as all that," Threepio was saying to Artoo.

Anakin nearly snorted a laugh at that. _Oh, Threepio, you have _no_ idea_.

"—and an end to the Chancellor's draconian security measures," Bail finished.

Artoo beeped and whistled a response to Threepio.

"Well, _there_, I agree with you," Threepio continued. "In fact, I could do with a tune-up myself."

Anakin pulled his attention back to the Alderaanian Senator and said, "But the fighting will continue until General Grievous is… spare parts…" Well, he _tried_ to pull his attention back. But Padmé was very close by, and Lúthien's Force sense was a reactor going critical—the combination of which was making it _very_ difficult for Anakin to focus anywhere else.

"I'll do everything I can with the Senate," Bail assured him.

Anakin couldn't take it any longer. Already turning to leave, he said, "Excuse me."

"Certainly," Bail nodded, moving off to rejoin the others.

Anakin jogged back to the shadow of one of the titanic columns of the place and caught his wife up in his arms, spinning her around. _Padmé, Padmé, Padmé, my_ angel… They kissed, and if Anakin could have frozen time right there, he would have been content.

He had his wife, his daughter, his closest friends safe, and the rest of the _universe_ could go to chaos for all he cared.

Anakin Skywalker was _home_.

"Anakin!" Padmé breathed.

"Daddy!" Lúthien hissed from below in an impatient whisper.

Definitely Daddy's girl. Anakin laughed and bent down to scoop her up. "Ace!" He gave her a bear hug, then a slightly rough kiss on her forehead. "You been good for Mama while I've been gone?"

"Amn't I always?" Lúthien demanded, trying to scowl and failing. She giggled.

Padmé laughed weakly. "Oh, Anakin, you gave us such a scare!"

"Daddy, I saw you land dat ship on da HoloNet—dat was _wizard_!" Lúthien gushed.

"Wasn't it, though?" Anakin grinned fiercely, rubbing his nose against his daughter's.

Even in these perfect moments, though, Padmé was pragmatic, and Anakin loved even that about her. "Ani, you two are getting loud," she began to fret, and Anakin loved the way her forehead wrinkled slightly when she was worried. "We should continue this at home…"

"We'll continue this _here_," Anakin said firmly. "I'm tired of all this deception—I don't care if they know we're married."

"I don' care!" Lúthien chimed happily.

Anakin turned to his wife with mild satisfaction, father and daughter standing together on the issue. "Y'see?"

Padmé gave him an exasperated look, and he supposed he couldn't really blame her. He _did_ kind of tend to push her buttons, and yet she put up with him anyway. Point two in her favor.

"Mama, ca' I tell him?" Lúthien asked enthusiastically.

Ah-_ha_! So now they were coming to the reason for her excitement. Anakin grinned. "Tell me what?"

Padmé nodded, her resignation melting to anticipation. "Go ahead."

"What is it, Ace?"

Lúthien turned to him, just about eye-level, cerulean and cerulean. "Mama's gonna have a baby," she murmured happily.

Anakin froze momentarily, turned to Padmé for confirmation. She simply nodded, smiling tentatively. He turned back to his daughter, who suddenly wore a look of intense concentration, her big blue eyes defocused. He felt her young mind brush against his own in an effort to figure out his thoughts.

He shook his head slightly, gently but firmly pushing her consciousness away. A maelstrom of thoughts and emotions whirled through his head, and getting sucked up into that would _not_ be good for his little girl.

He was afraid, first and foremost. Padmé's first pregnancy and miscarriage… he had been afraid throughout her pregnancy with Lúthien, as well. How could he go through it again? He still felt the pang of losing his first child, his son. Lúthien's birth had healed the wound admirably, but the scar remained.

"Ani," Padmé said gently, pulling him back down to earth.

Anakin exhaled forcefully. "That's…" Oh Force, what was he _thinking_? This was his _child_, his and Padmé's. This new baby was a _blessing_, not something to fear. He looked at Padmé, his gaze trailing down to her now-obviously large belly. It was his eyes, more than his soft smile, that told her, _"It's okay, angel. _I'm_ okay."_ He turned to Lúthien and said, "Sweetheart, that's _totally_ wizard."

Lúthien's solemn expression broke out into a wide grin. Padmé smiled in relief.

"And you know what else?" Anakin added. His angels looked at him quizzically, and he grinned. "This calls for a celebration. The war is almost over, and we're going to have a _baby_. So, let's go home, change clothes, and… oh, I don't know, maybe head out to the theater? See if we can catch a good holodrama?"

"_Yeees_!" Lúthien shouted excitedly, punching the air with her small fist.

Padmé laughed. "Okay, we really should leave _now_ before she calls Security down on us."

"Practical as always, my love," Anakin said easily, wrapping an arm around her and guiding them outside.

"Daddy, ca' I fly da speeder?"

Both parents answered: "No!"

"Awww!"

* * *

Yoda was waiting for Dooku and Kenobi as the shuttle touched down on one of the Jedi Temple's landing pads. "Obi-Wan, glad am I to see you safe," Yoda greeted, running a critical eye over the Jedi Council's golden boy.

Obi-Wan bowed from the neck. "Thank you, Master."

The ancient Jedi Master's green eyes moved up to Dooku, descending the ramp. Dooku halted, his eyes meeting Yoda's, brown and green, human and alien, Sith and Jedi.

"_Wasteful, this war is. Even you agree. Sent you the candle, did I: you know there can be coming home for you. Know this, both of us do, and if come back to the Temple you wish, I will take you there."_

_"Very kind. Decent of you to give me an arm to lean on."_

_"Always catch you will I, when you fall. I swore it."_

For a long moment, Dooku found that he couldn't breathe, almost as if he were drowning in those ancient green eyes. So much memory and grief there… how could he have ever thought all Jedi cold and unfeeling? How could he have thought that of _Yoda_?

In that moment, he understood. He'd known it before, but now, in another breathtaking moment like that aboard the _Invisible Hand_, he _understood_. Yoda, of all the Jedi—yes, even Skywalker and Kenobi—_knew_. He knew what it was like to love and lose. To grieve.

Dooku returned to the realm of the living with a shuddering breath. He was not a young man, and in thje space of two short hours, his entire universe had been irrevocably turned upside-down. Vaguely, he wondered why his hand wasn't trembling as it had on Vjun. He remembered a split-second later.

He didn't _have_ a hand, anymore.

He caught Obi-Wan glancing between him and Yoda—_two old men to him,_ Dooku thought dryly. "I shall," the Negotiator said slowly, his eyes trained on Dooku though speaking to Yoda, "deliver my report to Mace Windu when he returns, Master."

"Go, you may, Obi-Wan," Yoda said quietly. "My thanks, you have." Obi-Wan bowed more deeply before heading off. Yoda watched him leave before returning his focus to Dooku. "Came back, you did."

"Yes." Dooku stepped off the ramp.

The diminutive senior Master hobbled up to Dooku, inspected the blackened stumps where his wrists had been, and shook his head. "Terrible is this maiming. Regret, I do, that necessary, it must have been."

A beat. "Your Chosen One is actually quite good," said Dooku, his voice flat.

"Hmph. A good fighter is he. A good Jedi, remains to be seen."

Dooku arched an eyebrow. "If I may play devil's advocate, I might point out that, had the boy _not_ been a good Jedi, he would have struck me down in cold blood. He almost did."

Yoda's huge ears lifted a little, and his already-large eyes widened. "And make him a Jedi, this does, think you?"

Dooku looked him in the eye. "A year ago, he would have done it."

Another beat. "Defend him, you do," Yoda pointed out mildly, "and yet never a favorite of yours, has he been."

"And a favorite he still is not," Dooku countered. "But he, one of the fiercest Jedi alive, felt the pull of the Dark Side and stepped back. Is that not worthy of some admiration?"

Yoda snorted again, though with the air of a mother well-acquainted with her errant son's doings. "Discuss young Skywalker, we may again later." He jabbed his gimmer stick at Dooku's shin and turned to hobble off. "Discuss _you_, I wish to now."

Easily keeping stride with Yoda, Dooku looked up and away from the little green troll at his feet, his gaze distant. "You once asked me which of my masters loved me more." He paused, and Yoda allowed the silence to settle. Eventually, Dooku spoke again, quietly. "The one that caught me when I fell." He dared to glance at Yoda. The ancient eyes were soft—hurting, but soft.

Dooku quickly looked away again.

From below him, he heard the old, old voice say, "Loved you enough to destroy you then, I did. Love you enough to forgive you now, I do."

* * *

Obi-Wan was headed for the medbay and Bant when a beeping from his belt stopped him in his tracks. He knew what that beeping was—his datapad. And there was only one person in the galaxy who sent messages to his datapad.

Smiling, he fished it out of his belt—relieved to find it miraculously in one piece after that ordeal aboard the _Invisible Hand_—and activated it. _Since we're both in town,_ the screen said, _why don't we do lunch? 1:00 at our usual place._

He grinned and sent back a short message. _I'll be there._

* * *

Two hours, one visit with Bant, and one report to Mace Windu later, Obi-Wan was reclining in his seat in the Council Chambers. Mace had his folded hands pressed to his mouth as he contemplated this latest turn of events.

"Interesting," he said at last.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. "_Just_ interesting?"

The senior Master's dark eyes flicked briefly to Obi-Wan. "Anakin resisted the temptation to strike down Dooku in cold blood. That is an… unexpected decision from young Skywalker."

_Anakin's not a cold-blooded killer,_ Obi-Wan wanted to snap, and didn't. A dark little voice reminded him that that was not true.

"Obi-Wan?"

He jerked his head up. "Yes?"

Mace's solemn expression softened marginally. "I know how attached you are to your old Padawan. I'm merely surprised. And encouraged."

Acknowledging that with a tilt of his head, Obi-Wan suddenly sensed more. "And?" he prompted.

Mace heaved a sigh. "And _dis_couraged," he admitted. "Though not because of Anakin. And it's entirely possible that I need not even feel this way, if Dooku is truly sincere about helping us."

Obi-Wan leaned towards the older Master, his expression inviting enlightenment.

Mace's lips compressed briefly. "This raid—the capture had to be an inside job."

Abruptly, Obi-Wan found it difficult to breathe. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. The timing was so perfect—we were _closing in_ on Sidious, Obi-Wan. We traced him to an abandoned factory in The Works, not far from where Anakin landed Grievous's ship. When the fighting broke out, we were tracking him through the downlevel tunnels." Mace's gaze drifted to the windows, towards an enormous skyscraper in the west. "The trail led us to the sub-basement of Five Hundred Republica."

Five Hundred Republica, the most exclusive address in the known galaxy… home to beings such as Rath Sienar of Sienar Systems and even Palpatine himself. But that was not what knocked Obi-Wan's breath out of him.

_Padmé and Lúthien_. Senator Amidala's home was high up in that enormous skyscraper—Obi-Wan had visited it several times since Geonosis. Padmé, Sabé, Dormé, Moteé, and Ellé—five of Naboo's finest women, one of which was something like his sister-in-law and certainly a close friend. And Lúthien Skywalker, a bright-eyed three-year-old with an incredible amount of raw talent in the Force—for all practical purposes, his little niece.

Instantly, Obi-Wan Kenobi clicked into battle mode. "We'll have to convince Dooku to tell us who and where Sidious is," he said matter-of-factly. "If he defected to Anakin, it shouldn't be that hard. There are… there are good people in that building. People that I don't want within a thousand kilometers of that Sith Lord."

The Korun Master's face was grave. "You're thinking of Senator Amidala and her child."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to grimace. "Yes, I am." Lúthien's Force sensitivity was no secret, by the simple fact that someone as _brilliant_ in the Force as she was couldn't live on Coruscant within practical _shooting_ distance of the Jedi Temple without being noticed. Not long after the child's birth, Luminara Unduli had been tasked with speaking with Senator Amidala about the possibility of giving up Lúthien to the Temple.

Padmé had been polite but quite firm in her refusal.

"Lúthien Amidala has been weighing on my mind, too," said Mace. "She's so powerful… and so vulnerable."

Obi-Wan felt his face contort. "Master Windu, please." _I don't want to hear this_.

Mace dipped his head. "I fear for her, as well, Obi-Wan. I fear for us all. We must face the possibility—the _probability_—that Dooku was right. That the Senate is under the influence—under the control—of Darth Sidious."

Obi-Wan's quick mind immediately pointed out several Senators that could not possibly be involved, Padmé Amidala and Bail Organa among them. It didn't encourage him, but it was something. "Do you—" he swallowed—"do you have any suspects?"

"Too many," Mace said grimly. "Sidious is bipedal, roughly humanoid—but that's the most we know. Sate Pestage springs to mind. I wouldn't rule out Mas Amedda, either. Possibly even someone among the Red Guards—someone in Palpatine's inner circle. But there's no way to know."

Something tugged insistently at Obi-Wan's mind—perhaps something Anakin had said—but in his tired state, he couldn't focus well enough. Instead, he quickly returned his attention to the older man. "We can't legally investigate this. Can we." Not a question.

Mace exhaled. "No."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "Then we'll just have to persuade Dooku to tell us. Strangely enough, I think he will."

He had never seen Mace Windu look so lost. "We can only hope," he said softly.

* * *

She felt a warm, calm presence tinged with weary anticipation, and smiled. A moment later, she heard the front door open, and a rich Coruscanti voice call out, "Honey, I'm home, and I'm hungry!"

She burst out laughing before she could stop herself and, turning from her work, rushed out of the kitchen and into her husband's arms. "Obi-Wan!" She buried her grinning face into his shoulder as they held each other tightly.

Then Obi-Wan pulled back just enough to face her, his expression absolutely deadpan. "Lunch?"

She snorted disbelievingly and punched his arm, eliciting an "ow!" from him. "You're reunited with your wife for the first time in two months in the middle of a war—right after a life-and-death experience with the Separatist leaders, I might add—_and all you can think about is your stomach?_" she demanded, hands on her hips.

Obi-Wan chuckled weakly, rubbing at his arm. "I didn't have breakfast."

Siri sighed, her posture sagging. "What am I going to _do_ with you?"

"Give me lunch?" The sudden fire in her eyes made him backpedal and throw up his hands. "All right, all right, I'll stop, I'll stop!"

She shook her head, stalked over to him, pulled him close, and pressed her lips against his. His eyelids fluttered, his left hand coming to rest on the small of her back and his right hand moving through her hair. Her hands let go of his tunic and came up to press gently on the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.

At this precious point in time, there was no war, no restrictions… nothing but them and their love. Even when they had to come up for air and the kiss ended, they remained suspended in that point in time.

"I've missed you so much," he breathed against her cheek, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "When we were out there in the Sieges, I would dream about coming home to you."

"That's awfully romantic of you, Master Kenobi," Siri murmured, intending to tease and not quite pulling off the blithe tone. "Why don't you write me love letters like that?"

He smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid the thought never occurred to me."

"Start doing it now, then." Not giving him a chance to reply, she continued. "I've missed you, too, Obi-Wan—so much that it hurt, sometimes. And you were always right in the center of the worst of it. I've been lucky—the worst I've ever had to deal with was Azure." Going undercover the way she did all the time wasn't safe, but it was a _galaxy_ safer than being out on the frontline.

His grip tightened further instinctively as they both recalled Siri's all-too-close brush with death half a year earlier. "I'm grateful for that. I'd rather be the one to deal with the worst."

The words struck her as vaguely amusing, and she smiled faintly. "Would you really? Because, pretty soon, I _am_ going to have to deal with the worst."

Obi-Wan jerked back and looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

Siri's smile widened. "Well, it's generally not the father's place to bear the baby."

It took two seconds for that to register, and when it did, his eyes widened, stunned. "Siri?"

She laughed, her hands falling to grasp his and squeeze them. "Obi-Wan Kenobi lasso stork," she said merrily. "In six more months, darling, we're going to have to share our bed with our child."

His jaw dropped, and for a few moments, he seemed utterly unable to react in any other way. Then, she felt him pull himself together just enough to push his consciousness out towards her—

And Obi-Wan's mind brushed against the tiny life inside Siri's womb. The tiny life that was _their_ child.

She felt her breath taken away with his as if she was experiencing it for the first time once more. Their _child_. Someone totally unique, yet possessing a bit of her and a bit of Obi-Wan. The thought still amazed her, even after her miscarriage…

No, she _wouldn't_ think of that. Obi-Wan would catch on too quickly, and she didn't want to ruin the moment. They were getting a second chance, whether he knew it or not. She could—and would—be overjoyed for that.

She watched as her husband's lips gradually curved upward in an amazed smile. "Siri," he said hoarsely.

She lifted his right hand and placed it over her still-flat abdomen. "There's no movement to feel yet," she said gently. "But about three more months, and there will be."

"I can't believe it," he breathed.

"Why? That's when babies are big enough to be felt."

He made a sound of disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that she was quipping at a time like this. "You know what I mean. I can't believe we're… _parents_. That we're really going to have a _baby_!"

"Well, better start getting used to it," she advised, smiling. "And be grateful you weren't around for my morning sickness. I had fun hiding _that_ from the other guys in Intel."

He grimaced. "I'm sure." His grimace morphed into a pensive frown as the reality of the situation sank in, as he took into account factors that she probably didn't even know. "Siri… Siri, this is going to change everything."

"I know," she murmured.

"We can't hide this like Anakin and Padmé."

"I know," she repeated, her voice rising a bit.

"I don't know what we're going to do."

She twined her fingers with his. "This war is ending… with Dooku captured, it's ending—maybe even before the month is out. So, we're going to finish this war, and then we'll go the Council—you, me, and Anakin. And… and we'll tell them everything."

He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. "I guess we don't have much choice, do we?"

"Well, it's better than waiting until Bant asks me _why_ I resemble a Hutt more than I do a human being."

Obi-Wan let out a slightly strangled sound resembling a laugh as he looked down at their hands. "We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Nope." She raised their clasped hands to press tenderly against his chest. "Don't worry," she murmured. "We'll be just fine. _All_ of us—you, me, and the baby."

"And if we're expelled…" He looked up from their hands to meet her eyes, his own grey-blue eyes hardening with resolve. "If we're expelled… this time… _this _time, it'll be worth it. _Our child_… will be worth it."

"Our child," she nodded, leaning forward to rest her head on his shoulder.

They held each other like that for a long time.

_And the trees are now turning from green to gold  
And the sun is now fading  
I wish I could hold you closer_

—Ibid.

**

* * *

Author's Note:**

In the movie, you don't hear Bail's lines to Anakin in their entirety—instead, you hear Threepio's to Artoo. I decided to mash the two together, since the scene was from Anakin's POV and he probably would've been able to hear both. Wasn't easy, but it was worth it.

Anakin's nickname for his little girl is _Ace_. *cue _aws!_* And yes, Lúthien _does_ know how to fly—you'll read more about _that_, later. ;D

Dooku's flashback comes from _Yoda, Dark Rendezvous_—check it out: it's an excellent novel! Lots of heart to it! (Plus, you have a much, _much_ better understanding of the Dooku/Yoda interplay here if you read it.)

The scene between Obi-Wan and Mace is adapted from the RotS novelization.

The Siriwan scene was actually the first full scene I wrote for this fic, back when I was still working on _When You Believe _in early August! The "love letters" bit was inspired by some lines between a husband and wife in an old _Adventures in Odyssey_ episode (Christian radio drama)—I always loved that scene, and it's something I've been wanting to use for a long time. Also, you finally get to see one bit from the spoilers given in WYB's epilogue! "Obi-Wan Kenobi lasso stork." _Chocolate cake_ to anybody who recognizes that line! Finally, Siri's quip about resembling a Hutt is a tribute to Darth Ishtar's _The Other Half, Part III: When Morning Comes_, in which Leia says something very similar to Han. Ironic, isn't it, that the Kenobis have to worry about their baby more than the Skywalkers do?

Should have the next chapter up fairly soon!

_**Please review!**_


	4. Chapter 3: Ties That Bind

**Author's Note:**

I am SOOO sorry for not updating in so long! Please forgive meee! The story? Well, a friend got me hooked on Sherlock Holmes (directs attention to the Jeremy Brett avatar), and my muse refused to do anything else. So now I have an SH fic going full-steam, if you care to check it out. It's called "A Time to Heal." Now this does mean that, unfortunately, updates here will be slower. Deepest apologies, 'specially since you guys are so great, but I can only write what I have the inspiration to, you know?

On the up side, both this fic and the previous have been archived in a Siriwan C2! *cheers* And thanks to all who've favorited! (Hope I didn't lose anybody on my hiatus!)

As a side-note, the Skywalkers' apartment here is _**not**_ the one you see in the movies—_that_ one is in the Senatorial Complex, and _this_ one _here_ is in the Republica 500. Check out Wookieepedia, and you find that Padmé has _two_ apartments, one in the Senatorial Complex and the other in Republica 500. I don't know for sure if Padmé also owns the flat _below_ hers in the SC, _but_ her handmaidens and guards have to live _somewhere_, so for the sake of practicality, I wrote that in here.

**IMPORTANT NOTE:** If you've ever read my profile, you know that I've written a fantasy novel (_The Rise of a Legend_. Well, I'm editing it one last time, and I've begun blogging about it at www (dot) theriseofalegend (dot) blogspot (dot) com. (Check my profile for better link.) Please check it out, and feel free to comment, or share it with a friend! I need to promote the book—this is my _livelihood_ we're talking about, here.

**To my reviewers:**

Mastrada101: Thanks! I can't wait to _write_ Anakin deals with Palpatine being Sidious.

milpai000: Thank you! Sorry the update took so long in getting here!

Obi's Mom: Hmm… you never know… *secretive smile* …Ever since watching _Father of the Bride Part II_ for the first time several years ago, friends being pregnant at the same time have haunted my stories. xD

Valairy Scot: Thank you~! I was definitely aiming for the Siriwan scene to be melt-worthy, seriously.

Pearlmaidenredskyla: Oh wow, thanks! *big grin* I thought it would be really adorable if Lúthien told Daddy about the babies. Thanks all around! (We don't watch TV 'round here, nor have we cable. We've got the LotR extended edition DVDs instead!)

ResistanceIsNotFutile: Thanks! Ironic, isn't it?

Jedi Angel001: Thank you! Dooku's interesting, 'cause he's now the wild card in this mess (he could expose the Skywalkers, for example—the RotS novelization tells us that he knew), and even I can't fully predict him.

Historian1912: Oh, a Yoda fan you are? ^^ The driving line is one of my favorites, too. =) Should get in _at least_ one more chapter for this before Christmas, but I can't promise anything on _Breakaway_, sry.

**==Chapter III==**

**The Ties That Bind**

"…_And when all these Wonderful People get together… It's a Wonderful Life."_

—theatrical trailer for _It's a Wonderful Life_

"We're scheduled for dinner with the Skywalkers later." Obi-Wan sounded half-asleep—little wonder, since they were lying in bed with him curled around her.

Siri shifted slightly in her husband's arms. "I figured," she murmured back. Just to lie together like this, even in the middle of the afternoon, was nice. Dex Jettster had found this apartment for them in CoCo Town—small, out of the way, and not too far from his diner for those times when Siri didn't feel like cooking. When Obi-Wan and Siri were both on-planet, they'd rendezvous here and be able to act like a normal husband and wife for a short while, away from the prying eyes of the public, the media, and their own Order.

One warm hand strayed up to play with her hair. "You let your hair grow."

"Mm-hmm." No longer chin-length or even shoulder-length, her hair now reached halfway down her back.

"I like it."

"Mmm." If he kept that up, he'd put her to sleep.

A comfortable silence settled. They were Jedi—they didn't have to speak to communicate. And then there were the times when they just didn't have to communicate at all—all they had to do was simply _be_ there for each other.

At last, Obi-Wan murmured, "Should we tell them?"

Siri realized that she'd been almost asleep. "Mmm?"

"About the baby."

"Oh." She shifted enough so that she could look at him over her shoulder. "I'd like to, yes."

He smiled thoughtfully. "Lúthien will be excited."

She had to smile before she turned back over. "No doubt." Their baby would probably be like a cousin for the little Skywalker girl—not that Lúthien didn't already have her own cousins.

She felt him draw in a deep breath and let it out. "I can think of several possible reactions from _Anakin_… none of which I really want to deal with."

She chuckled. "I'm sure." Her eyebrows knitted together at a sudden idea. "I wonder what Ferus would've thought." Ferus Olin, Siri's old Padawan, had left the Order after a mistake among himself, Anakin Skywalker, and Tru Veld had cost the life of their fellow apprentice, Darra Thel-Tanis. The departure had hurt Siri, but time closed the wound. Though she missed the boy she'd raised, she moved on with her life. She thought about him sometimes, even mentioned him to her husband—just, never in Anakin's presence. Though Ferus and Anakin would never have admitted it, there had been bad blood between them.

Obi-Wan shifted so that he rested his chin in the hollow of her shoulder. "Did you ever find him?"

Siri smiled slyly, even though he couldn't see it. "I'm the Finder—that's my job." That elicited a chuckle from him, and she grinned. "Yeah, I traced him to a planet called Bellassa. He partnered with a man called Roan Lands to create a sort of law firm—"

"That's our Ferus."

She nodded. "—to protect people from corrupt businesses. Right now, he and Lands are officers in the army, out in the Sieges."

"Have you spoken with him?"

"I have, actually…"

His breath was warm past her cheek. "You still miss him, don't you?"

Sighing, she nodded. His left hand reached for hers and took it, his thumb massaging her palm. They lay there in silence a little while longer, until he broke it again. "Siri?"

And she had almost been asleep, _again_. She glanced heavenward and said, "Yes?"

"Have you thought of any names yet?"

The sleepy smile came unbidden to her lips. "A few. If it's a boy, I'm leaning toward Myka."

"And if the baby is a girl?"

Her eyes drifted shut. "Mmm… Mara."

* * *

"Ace, _pleeease_ let go?"

"Daddy, nuh-uh!"

Anakin didn't get many opportunities to hold his daughter, and he cherished the times that he did. However, her clinging to his leg like a _limpet_ was another kettle of Giju stew altogether.

It didn't help that Padmé's famed diplomacy was failing her—she couldn't hide her laughter.

"How 'bout you go hold on to Mommy?" Anakin wheedled.

Lúthien shook her head so hard that Anakin was sure she would hurt herself. "I ho'd Mama _lots_ mohr dan I ho'd _you_."

Padmé smiled. "I think our daughter has the makings of a lawyer, darling."

Anakin shot her a glare. "_Thanks_, Pad."

"Daddy, lif' me up—_pleeease?_"

Ohhh, those big blue eyes… Anakin could handle taunts, threats, torture, maiming, and near-death experiences… but those big blue eyes—ironically, identical copies of his own—got him every time. He sighed in resignation, bent down, and picked up his daughter. "There. You happy?"

Lúthien nodded enthusiastically—then stopped and cocked her head, as if listening for something.

Father and daughter felt it at the same time. "The Kenobis," Anakin told Padmé.

"Uncle Ben an' Aun' Siri!" Lúthien squealed at the same time, slipping down from her father's arms and hurrying to the turbolift door as quickly as her short legs could carry her.

"Whoa, whoa, hey, Ace!" Anakin easily caught up with the three-year-old and stepped between her and the door, just as it opened.

"Uncle Obi-Wan! Aun' Siri!"

"Lúthien, Anakin, hi!"

"Hey!"

"Hello, Obi-Wan. Hello, Siri."

"Padmé, good to see you again!"

"Good evening, Padmé."

As Padmé pulled away from a hug with Siri, Anakin commented, "Siri, you look great. I mean, _really_ great. What's up?"

Siri smiled, both she and Obi-Wan definitely looking as if they held a secret. "Oh, you'll find out. So how are you all doing?"

"Wonderful, actually," Padmé smiled, trading a glance with Anakin. "Please, come in and sit down."

As the Kenobis took a place on one of the couches—Lúthien now clinging to Obi-Wan—Sabé came in from the corridor. "Well, look at what the jax drug in," she grinned. "_When_ was the last time you both were here? Hi, Siri—hi, Obi-Wan!"

"Sabé, hi!" Siri grinned.

"Hello, Sabé," Obi-Wan nodded, shifting Lúthien's position on his knee.

Padmé turned to Sabé. "Is dinner almost ready?"

Sabé nodded. "Five minutes, tops. Threepio amazes me in the kitchen."

Padmé giggled. "For worrying over every moment he spends in there, I'd say he does fairly well."

"_Definitely_."

Anakin made a wry face. "That's what I _programmed_ him to do—I don't know why he worries about it."

"Eh, it's just in his personality," Sabé reasoned.

"Personality," Obi-Wan muttered skeptically.

"Yes, Master Kenobi—_personality_," Sabé insisted. "Droids have feelings, too, you know."

"Sabé, how can they _possibly_—"

"Oh, no, you two aren't going to argue about that _again_, are you?" Anakin interjected. The topic of whether or not a droid could have a soul had been enthusiastically debated by Sabé and Obi-Wan several times in the past three years. "I don't get why you even bother—neither of you ever wins out over the other."

"It's the _principle_ of the thing," Sabé told him, smiling sweetly at Obi-Wan, who sighed and focused his attention on Lúthien.

At that moment, Moteé appeared behind Sabé. "Sabé, need your help for a minute?"

"Oh, sure." The two handmaidens disappeared back into the corridor, leaving behind a quiet living room. Anakin was nuzzling his wife, and the Kenobis were fondling Lúthien. It was a cozy sort of silence.

The doorbell broke that cozy silence.

Anakin sprang to his feet. "I thought she said she wasn't going to be here till later…"

"What?" Obi-Wan frowned. "Who—"

"Aun' Soka!" Lúthien grinned. She ran out of Obi-Wan's arms, only to bump into her father's legs as he strode to the opening turbolift door.

Seventeen-year-old Ahsoka Tano stepped into the apartment, a pink gift bag adorning her arm and Captain Rex of the 501st Legion following her. Ahsoka wore her everyday apparel, and Rex wore a dark grey casual flight suit. "Master, Lúthien, hey!" the teen smiled, scooping up her honorary niece and hugging her.

"Hey, Snips!" Anakin grinned. "Hi, Rex."

"Hello, sir."

Anakin stepped back to allow them further in. After very little growth in the past three years he'd known her, his Padawan had recently undergone a terrific growth spurt that put her up an inch or so past Padmé's height. Her montrals—or "naturally-grown headdress," as Sabé teased—had also lengthened, till she looked far more Togrutan adult than teenager. Just the idea of Ahsoka's growing-up made Anakin's chest ache, and he couldn't help but wonder how much worse he'd feel when it was _Lúthien_ in her later teens.

As Ahsoka carried Lúthien into the living room, Rex dug a bolo-ball cap out of the gift bag and set it firmly on the toddler's head. She gasped delightedly and pulled it off to examine it. "Team Naboo! _T'ank_ you, Uncle Rex!" she cried.

Rex smiled slightly. "No problem, kid. Hey, did you watch the latest game?"

"Nuh-uh, I had-a go-ta bed," Lúthien moaned.

"Sullust won by ten."

"Woo-_hoo_!"

Anakin gaped. "Rex, _how_ does my daughter know so much about bolo-ball games?"

Rex suddenly looked like a jax caught in the headlights.

Lúthien gave her father a look. "C'mon, Daddy—_ev'rybody_ knows abou' _Mesh… Mesh-ger-o-ya_." She pronounced the foreign word slowly.

Anakin was pretty sure that his captain was wishing he could sink right through the floor. He folded his arms and looked Rex in the eye. "And _how_, _**Captain**_, does my daughter know Mandalorian?"

"Dat's _Mando'a_, Daddy," Lúthien corrected, self-complacent.

Anakin arched an eyebrow at Rex, inviting explanation.

The clone straightened to attention, his voice clipped. "Well, sir, Commander Tano told me that younglings like games, and I thought _Meshgeroya_ was something that the ki—your daughter might like, sir. And she's heard me use some _Mando'a_ before, sir."

Anakin wasn't sure whether to laugh or frown. Of course, he himself had been able to speak Huttese as fluently as Basic by the time he was Lúthien's age, and he had also begun following the Podraces at the same time. But Rex wasn't always the cleanest with his language—Anakin had picked up enough _Mando'a_ from his men to understand most of their swear words—and Anakin also knew what kind of commercials aired in-between footage of the bolo-ball games.

Ahsoka glanced back and forth between him and Rex, her large blue eyes interested. Anakin shifted his jaw slightly and motioned to Padmé as he moved towards her. "Padmé, can I talk with you for just a sec?" he asked quietly, passing her and headed for the balcony.

"Certainly." Padmé stood and glided after him. As they came out onto the balcony, Anakin could hear a fresh round of greetings ensue. "Okay, Anakin—what's wrong?" She crossed her arms above her swelling abdomen.

Anakin's lips compressed briefly. "One: language. Two: games."

Padmé sighed and shook her head. "Anakin, Rex is careful of what he says around Lúthien. Only _twice_ has he ever said anything that she shouldn't hear, and it was in Mandalorian. Otherwise, he sometimes _starts_ a word and leaves it unfinished because his brain catches up with him."

Anakin shifted his jaw again. "And the bolo-ball games?"

"What about them?"

"Padmé, do you know what kind of _commercials_ they air in between—"

"_Yes_," Padmé replied, flustered, "of _course_, I know—Anakin, what kind of mother do you think I _am_? When there's a commercial break, Sabé takes Lúthien into the other room until it's over." She exhaled and folded her arms. "Besides," she said in a lighter tone, "there _is_ this little thing called the _recorder_. And maybe, we _use_ it sometimes, and just maybe, we _don't_ record the commercials."

Anakin's posture drooped slightly, as he tried to figure out whether to blush or roll his eyes. He gave up and let out an explosive breath. "All right. All right, I'm sorry, I just…"

Padmé looked down and shook her head again. "You're just doing your job as a father, Ani—I understand." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "You're being a good daddy," she murmured.

He kissed the crown of her head. "Thanks," he murmured back.

She tilted her head back to face him. "Well," she smiled slightly, "we'd better get back in there. Before they think something is really wrong."

He smiled slowly. "But this is the first time we've had a moment alone in the last five months."

A laugh bubbled up in her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth before it could escape. "Anakin Skywalker," she hissed in a whisper, "you are absolutely _incorrigible_! We'll get time alone _later_."

He grinned slightly, letting her know that he'd been joking. "But I can do _this_ now." He pressed his lips against hers, careful to support her so that she wouldn't fall backwards. When he pulled away, she was a bit breathless.

"Oookay, we really should go back in now," she whispered.

"As my lady wishes," he conceded, his real hand on the small of her back to guide her back into the apartment.

Lúthien was on the floor, handling two dolls. When she caught sight of her parents, she jumped up and brandished the dolls in the air. "Mama, Daddy, look-a whah Aun' Soka goh me foh my birfday!"

"I see, I—oh, Force…" Anakin realized that the dolls were the action figures some toy company had made to promote the war effort. One was a plastic version of himself, another was Ahsoka, and a third was Obi-Wan, lying on the caf table.

Ahsoka shrugged and grinned. "You should've seen the cashier _staring_ at me for buying a toy version of myself."

Anakin arched an eyebrow at her. "Yeah—_how_ did you get the money for this, Ahsoka?"

"Well, it wasn't just me. Barriss knows that I'm friends with Padmé, and when I told her that I was getting Lúthien a belated birthday present, she offered to pitch in."

"We've already settled that Lúthien will send a thank-you card to Barriss!" Sabé called helpfully from the other room.

Anakin turned to Padmé. "How does she do that?"

"It's called _parenting_, Anakin," Obi-Wan supplied helpfully. "When you practice enough, you have eyes in the back of your head and ears that can pick up your child's voice a klick away."

Anakin drooped a little. "So _that's_ why I didn't get away with much when I was a kid."

Lúthien and Ahsoka giggled. Siri smirked, and Padmé just rolled her eyes, fingering the Hero With No Fear doll her daughter had just handed her.

"Oh, I think you got away with a few things too many," Obi-Wan told him, in that _maybe-_you_-have-forgotten-but-_I_-haven't_ tone of his.

A certain protocol droid instance _did_ come to mind… Anakin made a mental note to watch for trickster tendencies in his children.

Ellé drifted into the room at that point, coming up to Padmé. "Milady," she murmured, "dinner is ready. Dormé, Moteé, and I will be heading out once you're settled."

"Thank you, Ellé," Padmé murmured back. "Are you sure you want to go?"

"Oh yes, milady," the handmaiden assured her. "We'll have dinner and go catch a holodrama. It'll be fun."

Padmé exhaled. "If you're sure."

Ellé just smiled.

* * *

In the kitchen, Sabé was holding a similar discussion with Dormé. "C'mon, Dormé—stay," Sabé wheedled.

Dormé smiled slightly and shook her head. "This is a _family_ reunion—and I'm not family."

Sabé gave her companion an exasperated look. "You've been with Padmé ever since she became a Senator. What does _that_ qualify as?"

"A loyal bodyguard."

"Dormé!" Sabé folded her arms in frustration. Dormé was the eldest of the four handmaidens at thirty, slightly taller than Padmé, and very quiet and mild-mannered. By contrast, Sabé was the youngest of the four at twenty-seven—though undeniably the most experienced—the same height as Padmé, and definitely fiery in personality. When not in the mantle of a handmaiden, Sabé became very open and outgoing, as opposed to Dormé's almost constant introversion.

Throughout the war, Sabé had been trying to involve Dormé in the Skywalkers' private life, insisting that she was family. Dormé had continually refused, holding that such behavior was contrary to a handmaiden's position. She was Padmé's bodyguard, assistant, and confidante… but she would not take that step forward into a more familial relationship. It frustrated Sabé to no end. She had quickly become friends with the young Queen Amidala, their relationship developing from friendship to sisterhood to something akin to a twin bond. And though she knew Dormé would probably never be that close to Padmé, the older handmaiden could be closer than she was.

"Sabé, I appreciate what you're trying to do—_really_," Dormé insisted. "But… I just…"

"Dormé?" Moteé called from the corridor. "Ellé and I are ready—are you coming?"

Sabé huffed at the other handmaiden's rotten timing.

"I have to go," said Dormé. She gave Sabé a light hug. "I'll see you later."

Sabé nodded almost sullenly. "See ya." She watched Dormé walk away, and couldn't help the ache in her chest. Despite being the younger of the two, Sabé had developed a "big sister" attitude towards Dormé over the past three years, and the older woman hadn't minded.

She knew that Dormé was hurting inside, for some reason. She just wished she could get her to let it go.

* * *

Over dinner, the Jedi entertained the others with humorous anecdotes of the Outer Rim Sieges, frequently supplemented by comments from Rex. Throughout the meal, Lúthien kept shooting her mother significant glances, begging for permission to tell their guests about the Skywalker family's newest addition. Every time, Padmé gave her daughter a discreet "not now" look.

"Mama, ca' we have dessoht?" Lúthien asked, once everyone had finished eating.

"Maybe we should wait for that," Padmé advised.

"That's fine with me," Obi-Wan grunted, pushing himself away from the table. "My stars, every time I come here, I _swear_ I leave a pound heavier."

Ahsoka and Sabé giggled. "Oh well, I'm sure you get it worked off _very_ quickly on the field," Sabé said wickedly.

"Lay off, handmaiden," Siri warned playfully.

Sabé pretended to wilt.

Padmé sighed and rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's let Threepio clear the table."

"Should we help?" Ahsoka wondered.

"No, no, it gives him something to do," Padmé assured her.

Lúthien broke free of the group and hurried into the living room, immediately plopping down on the floor and playing with her new dolls. Obi-Wan pulled Anakin back to the dining room as the others took up seats around the living room. "Anakin, I have to tell you something," Obi-Wan said quietly.

"Master, I don't like that look," Anakin said warily.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm afraid it's bad."

Anakin folded his arms. "Yes?"

The older man exhaled heavily. "When I was speaking with Master Windu, he… told me that he suspected the Chancellor's kidnapping was an inside job."

"_What_?" Anakin hissed in a whisper, a rather familiar anger starting to well up inside.

"The timing was far too coincidental—Anakin, the Jedi team here were _closing in on Sidious_. They were very close to a breakthrough when the fighting broke out."

Anakin narrowed his eyes, sensing more. "And?" he prompted.

Obi-Wan worked his jaw briefly. "The trail led the Jedi to the sub-basement of 500 Republica."

"Oh." Anakin fell back a step, his mind working feverishly to process that. "But… _here_, he's working from _here_… That's… that's _impossible_—I mean, how could he be here without you or Siri or I or even Lúthien _ever_ sensing him…"

"The same way he can hide himself anywhere from the Jedi."

Anakin leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Oh, _Force_…"

"Anakin, you have to get them out of here."

Anakin exhaled forcefully. "Kriff it… how are we _ever_ going to fit _everybody_ back into that little flat in the Senatorial Complex?"

"Doesn't Padmé own the flat just below, too?"

"Yeah…" Anakin opened his eyes and turned to face his former Master. "Okay, we'll move. Temporarily, anyway. That place really is too small."

"You'll manage," Obi-Wan assured him.

Anakin blew a puff of air at his hair.

"Anakin, there's one more thing."

The younger man groaned. "What now?"

"Master Windu believes Sidious to be someone in Palpatine's inner circle—Sate Pestage, Mas Amedda, one of the Red Guards…"

"Sly Moore."

"Anakin, be _serious_."

"I _am_. I wouldn't put it past Sly Moore to be Sithly."

Obi-Wan sighed again. "Fine. But the fact remains that our Sith Lord is somewhere in the Senate Building itself. So _be careful_ when you visit."

Anakin nodded. "I will, I will, I promise. Look, maybe I can do a little digging, see what I can turn up."

He caught Obi-Wan glancing heavenward. "One minute you're promising you'll be careful—the next minute you're offering putting yourself in danger…"

"Hey, it's got to be done."

"Anakin, may I remind you that subtlety is _not_ one of your strong points."

"But they _know_ me there, they're _used_ to me… it shouldn't be _that_ hard to find something with a little effort."

Obi-Wan raked a hand through his ginger hair. "Fine. But the minute you find something, contact me."

"Yes, Master," Anakin said, rather caustically.

Obi-Wan turned to rejoin the group.

"Master?"

He turned halfway. "Yes?"

"Thanks."

Obi-Wan managed a slight smile. "You're welcome, my friend."

* * *

The women were chatting, Lúthien was happily playing alone, and Anakin and Obi-Wan were back in the dining room, talking privately. That left Ahsoka and Rex to their own devices, however temporarily.

"Maybe you ought to try to wear civvies when you visit," Ahsoka suggested shyly.

"Ho no, that would be too weird," Rex told her. "I've never worn civilian clothes in my life."

"Well, it's not as if you're _that_ old," Ahsoka grinned. "You need to be more adventurous."

Rex snorted a laugh. "Adventurous? And just what do you call what we _do_ almost every single day?"

"Fighting a war _isn't_ the same as being adventurous," she asserted. "Anyone can fight a war, but not everybody is willing to be daring and try new things."

"_You_ be daring and try new things," the clone smirked. "_I'll_ stick to fighting a war, thanks."

"This from the man who dyes his hair weird colors _and_ shaves it into patterns? _Including_ the color of the Team Sullust?" Laughing sardonically, Ahsoka rolled her eyes, folded her arms, and looked away. Good ole Rex…

"Wha's so funny, Aun' Soka?" Lúthien asked from where she lay stomach-down on the floor.

"Nothing, sweetie—just your uncle Rex."

"Oh stars," Rex muttered, "don't encourage her about the uncle thing…"

Lúthien giggled, and Ahsoka bit back a grin. "Aw, but it's so cuuute!" the teenager cooed.

"Somebody shoot me now," Rex muttered into the pillow he was currently using to hide his face.

Lúthien only giggled harder, and Ahsoka had to choke down her laughter.

"Girls," Padmé called warningly. "Leave the poor Captain alone."

The three-year-old shrugged and returned to her dolls. Ahsoka merely nestled into the plush couch and tossed an innocent look at Rex, who was glancing over his pillow. "_Why_ do you have to _do_ things like that?" he ground out in a whisper to the girl beside him.

Ahsoka's expression abruptly turned penitent. "Ahh, I'm sorry, Rex—I don't know what gets into me lately. Maybe it's a phase I'm going through."

"It's a _phase_ you've _been_ going through for the past _three years_, kid."

Ahsoka cringed down in her spot. "Eep—touché."

Rex sighed. "I don't know why I bother…"

"'Cause we're best pals?" she suggested.

He looked down at her. "Is that what we are?"

She grabbed the pillow he'd discarded and hugged it tightly. "_I_ think so, yeah."

"A clone officer and a Jedi apprentice?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"And I guess we've seen a lot of them, haven't we."

"You bet."

They shared a knowing smile.

"Well," Rex sighed contentedly, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles, "nice to have that sorted out."

"Did we really sort anything out?"

"Didn't we?"

"Do you really think?"

"What is this, Twenty Questions?"

"Why not?"

"Are you going to stop that?"

"Should I?"

"_Aaaarghhh_…" That was Rex's muffled groan into the cushion.

Ahsoka looked up to meet Padmé's disapproving glare. "What?"

* * *

Lúthien remained happily absorbed in her dolls while the adults settled into easygoing conversation. Obi-Wan felt Siri's growing impatience, however, to share their news, and he noticed similar signs of agitation in Padmé. "Padmé," he said into a lull in the conversation, "was there something you wanted to share with us?"

Anakin shot him an annoyed glance, but Padmé looked grateful. "Actually, there is, Obi-Wan," she affirmed, gripping her husband's flesh hand tightly. Lúthien looked up from her play with a Cheshire grin. Padmé visibly took a deep breath and said, "I am… I'm going to a have a baby."

Ahsoka's jaw dropped, Rex's military posture slackened, Sabé grinned, Siri's mouth worked helplessly, and Obi-Wan stared. "…Really?"

"Uh-huh!" Lúthien beamed, shooting up from the floor and bouncing onto Anakin's lap.

"Congratulations!" Ahsoka burst out, rushing around the caf table and flinging her arms around Padmé. "That is _so_ great! Awww!" Padmé broke out laughing at the enthusiastic response, and Anakin's eyes widened as his Padawan turned to pounce on him. "Ohhh, Skyguy—congrats!"

Anakin turned a pleading face to Obi-Wan, who shrugged helplessly. "Well, Anakin, Padmé," Obi-Wan began, then stopped himself and shook his head, smiling. "Congratulations."

"Ah, y-yes—_yes_! Kudos!" Siri grinned, and laughed. "I should have _known_ that you were pregnant—you rather look it."

Padmé nodded with a self-deprecating expression. "Yes…"

"So, when's the baby due?" Rex asked.

"Three more months," Padmé replied.

"Oh, wow," Ahsoka murmured, before rounding on Anakin once more. "Master, why didn't you _tell_ us?"

Anakin threw up his hands. "I honestly had no idea until _just_ this morning—it's been a few months since I've been home, you know."

Ahsoka turned away. "Well. _That_ puts all kinds of unwanted ideas in my head."

"Yeah, well, they'd better _stay_ in your head," Anakin warned her.

Obi-Wan felt Siri lean against him, and he wrapped his arm around her. He almost frowned, sensing something a little off-kilter, something that didn't fit with the cheerful mood. "Sweetheart?" he murmured, filtering out the rest of the conversation surrounding the Skywalkers.

He felt a barely-perceptible headshake. "I'm all right."

He merely sent her a sense of disapproval in the Force.

She sighed. "_Really_, Obi-Wan."

No, she wasn't, and he was going to find out later—she wasn't the only investigator in this relationship. But for now… "Should we give them our news?"

"Oh, I don't…"

"News, what news?" Lúthien Skywalker suddenly materialized below them—wonderful, the girl was learning her father's fine art of being sneaky.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Maybe not now, Lúthien…"

"Obi-Wan, did you have something you wanted to share?" Sabé cut in, honest curiosity in her brown eyes.

He sighed and looked down at Siri, who shrugged and sat upright. "Oh, now that they know there's something…" she grumbled, straightening out her tunic.

"What, what?" Ahsoka asked eagerly.

Siri leaned forward and clasped her hands. "Well, I have to admit that Padmé's news kind of took the solar wind out of _our_ sails," she confided.

Anakin frowned suspiciously, glancing between Siri and Obi-Wan. "What do you mean?"

Siri didn't take a deep breath as Padmé had, but she braced herself and Obi-Wan did the same. "We're going to have a baby, too."

Shocked silence…

"Wooo-_hooooo_!"

…followed by a Lúthien-class tackle. Onto Obi-Wan, thankfully.

"Siri," Sabé began, "that's… oh, that's _terrific_! _Mazel tof_!"

Anakin was staring at the Kenobis. "Master, I didn't know you had it in you!"

"Anakin!" Padmé gasped, sending a sharp elbow in his ribs even as Obi-Wan felt his face burn.

"Congratulations!" Ahsoka hastened to say, hoping to avoid further trouble. She flew forward, though, to give Siri a hug that was no less enthusiastic than the one Padmé had received. "Oh, wow!"

"It's a big change, certainly," Obi-Wan admitted.

"Yeah, I'll… say." Anakin's face clouded as his brain worked out the consequences. "Oh, Master…"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "We're going to take things one step at a time, Anakin, and we're not going to borrow trouble before it happens."

That effectively sobered the group as they realized the implications of Siri's pregnancy. "Oh _Force_," Ahsoka breathed, sitting heavily on the Kenobis' couch.

"We're not going to worry about it," Obi-Wan insisted firmly. "We're going to use this time to celebrate our being together, and the new lives that are coming into our families."

Sabé disappeared for a minute and returned with a tray full of glasses and a bottle of sparkle cider. After filling a glass for everyone, she took her own and raised it. "Here's to our children," she smiled.

"To our children," the others echoed.

Obi-Wan sipped at his glass, taking note of the pensive look in his wife's deep blue eyes.

**

* * *

Author's Note:**

Okay, _this_ was a chapter I'd been waiting to do since I started the fic, and somehow, I lost inspiration for it! Grrr… Anyway… d'awww, wasn't that just so fluffy? There was also some, well, rather mature humor there, but I think it was all rather like the old movies when their mature humor was just plain roguishly _funny_, not _dirty_ like that kind of humor is nowadays.

BIG THANKS to my beta, Lady Ravena, who pointed out a couple of things to me and provided me with dialogue material for both Anakin & Padmé's conversation and Rex & Ahsoka's! Ahsoka's questions, btw, were inspired by a cute scene from a _Buzz Lightyear of Star Command _fic, one of my favorites (and not online, therefore not actually _in_ my profile faves). The bit about Lúthien being a "limpet" is a nod to frodogenic's _fabulous_ one-shot "Lord Vader's Limpet"—check it out, 'cause it's _hilarious_ and yet so totally believable and IC!

Didn't you just love the action figures and the bolo-ball cap? I know I did. xD And I think that Lúthien greeting Rex & Ahsoka was one of my favorite parts—definitely one that was very visual for me.

The Sabé & Dormé scene… I'm not sure where that subplot will go, but it was something that came to mind after reading several handmaiden fics, and the scene integrated itself almost before I knew it! I had a _lot_ of fun writing Sabé in this chapter, and I really enjoy using Keira Knightley as the inspiration for the character.

Next chapter, things start going downhill! (C'mon, there wouldn't be a legitimate adventure story without _that_ happening!)

_**Please review, and tell me that you still love it!**_


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